


Reprise

by laturprofarkalesari



Category: Cyborg 009
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-04-26 11:24:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14401131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laturprofarkalesari/pseuds/laturprofarkalesari
Summary: Trying to tie up some loose ends and start a normal life again after defeating Black Ghost.This story is based on the 2008 oneshot written and drawn by Yasushi Hoshino, but can be read even if you're not familiar with it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A couple words about the continuity I'm following in this fic, since it's quite obscure: in 2008, for the 50th anniversary of Shonen Sunday, some authors and artists reimagined some stories from classic series that had been published in the magazine during its run, including Cyborg 009. The oneshot covered only the origin story of the group, was mostly focused on Joe and wasn't supposed to have any continuation beyond that issue, but I found that there were a few interesting elements about the setting and the characters that would have made for very interesting subplots and other stories had it continued, so I integrated them with headcanons and wrote something down myself.
> 
> The oneshot took place in its present day, so this fic is in a contemporary setting as well.

"So, have you thought about where we could go eat tonight?"

Chang shook his head. "No, at all. I've never been to Europe before, I told you." He calmly replied. "And you're the one offering, so it's only fair that you're the one to choose the place."

"Yes, but you're the guest, so you're the one who should pick a place. That's how it works here."

Hearing that reply, Chang looked a bit surprised and confused. "Really? In that case, how about going for some place where they make stew and mashed potatoes with beer and rye bread? I really want to try it out!"

Great sipped on his beer. He would have wanted to go eat something more scrumptious, to celebrate his first night of complete freedom, but it was his gentlemanly duty to go along with the wishes of his guest. "Alright. There's definitely no shortage of places that serve that around here." He replied, looking around and realizing that the odd couple of the two of them had attracted the attention of a small group of besuited and well groomed men, who were having a pint and some peanuts while leaning against the counter on the other side of the local.

An Englishman and a Chinese man sitting in a pub in Dublin, enjoying a half pint each while talking about where to eat that evening. That sounded a lot like the start of one of the jokes his old friend Bob used to tell him and the rest of the troupe during of their "tension breaking" evenings, after a general rehearsal or a particularly difficult or crowded performance. It usually involved a pint or two for each of them, a telly showing a soccer match, if there was any on, and a lot juvenile humor to get rid of the accumulated tension. But more often than not, the punchline of said joke would end being at the expenses of the hypothetical Chinese man, or of the whole state of Ireland, which made for an inappropriate thought in the current situation. He gave a look at Chang, who was leaning with one elbow on the wooden in front of themselves while skimming through a cooking magazine he had brought at the airport, and felt guilty about having thought of it at all.

"You know, I've always wanted to try and expand my horizons, and learn about the cooking in other parts of the world. I've read about it a lot but never ate it, so I want to try it out to try and cook it myself in the future." Chang commented.

"Oh, really?" Great replied, distractedly, as he threw a glance at a pretty redhead in t-shirt and jeans, leaning against the counter while waiting for her beer to be served. "Didn't know you liked cooking."

"That was my job, back in the day." Chang said. That comment had caught Great's full attention. He had really mentioned something about his past just like that, so casually? Interesting, he told himself, chocking back the temptation of inquiring further about that subject right away. He had promised himself not to.

That was one of the reasons why they had decided to head for Dublin, after all. It had started with a small, casual conversation on the way to the Buenos Aires airport. As it turned out, neither of them wanted to get back home right away. Because of this, after some more chatting, Chang had decided to join him, Albert and Françoise on the plane that would have brought them to Frankfurt, where they would have split and each of them would have gone to their destinations.

Then, at least for them, came the decision about where to go: Chang was fine with everything, as long as he had someone to guide him, since he wasn't familiar with Europe. Great, on the other hand, had some very clear ideas: he wanted someplace that, while not being London, would still be familiar enough, but not so similar to it to make him think of things past. It didn't take him too long to pick Dublin, British-looking enough in its exterior to quell his nostalgia and homesickness, but a completely different world under any other aspect.

While they were waiting for their flight at the Argentinian airport, he had tried to ask Chang about why he didn't feel like going back to Shanghai, but the other had been evasive about the whole matter. He had tried to insist, until Chang had mentioned something about a personal failure and then quickly and awkwardly changed argument once more. That made him decide not to pry any further, definitely not right away. Not just out of respect, but also because he was afraid that, if the other started opening up, he would have been forced to do the same out of fairness.

But that hadn't stopped him from wondering about it, and most of the answers he could come up with had to do with various types of failures that could have had to do with either his career or his family life. Great could easily imagine it had something to do with any of those reasons because he had gone through something like that, in the past. As he thought of that, however, he also couldn't help wondering if he wasn't just projecting his own personal problems and past on Chang. They happened to have one thing in common, that was all and he shouldn't have been overthinking it.

Still, it was weird to think that two guys like them could have anything in common. And yet, there they were, sitting in front of each other, in a pub far from their respective birthplaces, for the same reason. He decided to stop thinking about it for good, at least for the rest of their time there. This was a holiday after all, and they both more than deserved one.

"So, you like cooking? If you need any help with the cooking and experimenting, I will be happy to lend you a hand, not only to try the results of your work and give you suggestions, but also--"

"Erm, maybe no." Chang interrupted him.

Great leered back. "No? Why not, pray tell?"

"Well, you see... it's not about you, it's just... the taste of you British people, English especially, when it comes to food and cooking is a bit... peculiar, from what I've been told."

Great leaped on his feet, slamming his hands on the table. "What? Where does that come from?"

Chang looked at all the people around the pub, realizing that their attention was on the two of them. "Now, now, calm down..."

"Who the heck told you that? Albert and Françoise, wasn't it?" Great was shouting, livid. "Such friends, especially him! But next time we meet, he's going to hear me! It's a lot of gall for a German, daring to have something to remark about English cooking, and--"

He interrupted himself only when someone, taking advantage of a moment of pause, coughed loudly a couple of times. Great finally looked up and around, to see the judgmental sight of every single customer in the local right on him. A few seconds of complete silence, and his face turned crimson.

"Erm... huh... s-sorry, everybody." He replied, lowering his head. "It was j-just a moment, I promise. I'm deeply sorry, and I won't be--"

Once more he was forced to interrupt himself, this time because of someone trying to hold back a laugh. He looked in the direction it came from, and saw it was the good looking woman he had noticed before. A quick glance around the pub, and could see a few more people visibly amused, including the bartenders behind the counter.

With a sigh, he lowered his head again and sat back down, resigning himself to the fact he had once more made a fool of himself in front of a lot of people. But at least this time they had taken it well, for a change.

He turned his head to look at Chang, and wasn't too surprised to see the man guffawing while covering his mouth with his hand. "I... _pffft_ , I don't know if I should be embarrassed because of the scene you did... or - _pffft_ \- or laughing because of the face you're making right now."

"Oh, you _don't_ know, do you?" He replied, as deadpan as he could, before bringing his half pint to his mouth and taking a long sip. His first temptation had been to just down the whole thing in one go, but thankfully he managed to stop himself before he could do so. For a long while, reacting like this to a moment of embarrassment would had been normal, almost instinctive. But now he had to learn to put that on a leash, heaven knows how many times that behavior had put him into trouble already. And, he was happy to realize, the presence of someone else next to him was the help he needed.

"I was joking, just joking." Chang said after he managed to put on a serious expression again.

Great sneered. "Aren't jokes supposed to be funny, or something? I always thought it was the whole point of them."

At that reply, Chang shrugged. "Well, I thought it was funny. Not as much as your little outburst, but still. I suppose I'll have to get used to your kind of humor, from what I've heard that's one thing you British people are actually good at."

With a sigh, Great leaned against the back of his chair and gave another look around. Thankfully everyone seemed to be back to their own business, and he was no longer the center of attention. "Well, moving on... other ideas about what to do tonight, after dinner?"

"Beats me. That's one thing I really can't speak about, I know nothing of how people pass their time in this part of the world." Chang replied. "Do you know any interesting places around here?"

Great shrugged. "It's been decades since I visited Dublin, I don't know what's going on here these days. I'm sure there's stuff to do, but I have no idea."

"You have no idea what to do in this city? Then why did you bring me to this pub, and were so sure about it?"

"This is a historical place." He replied. "It's been here for more than a century, and I'm sure it will be here for much longer than that." He replied, raising his voice on the last few words, in an improvised attempt to score some points with the people there. It was quite disappointing when, a few moments later, he realized that nobody had noticed his comment - or, at least, acted like they hadn't.

"So, you already came here?"

Great nodded. "Lovely place back then, lovely place now. I was here with some friends, and we wanted to enjoy the atmosphere of the place--" Realizing he was starting to talk about personal issues, he stopped speaking. It was because of the fame of that local, for having served and having been a meeting point for dozens and dozens of artists throughout the centuries thanks to its being close to the old Royal Theatre, since back in the day he fancied himself as an artist as well. But now that had nothing to do with the reason he was here in Dublin right now, he didn't need to start talking or thinking about that kind of stuff. 

He quicky got a grip on himself, and said: "So, yeah, we decided to come here. Since it's a historical place, you know. To be part of the history of the city, in a way." 

"Oh, I understand." Chang replied before taking a sip. "In that case, how about we just eat dinner, call it a day and go to sleep? The trip here has been long and tiring, and I really need some rest."

"You're tired? How? You slept through half the trip here!"

"We had to take two planes, and waited five hours at the airport. It's been three days since I slept on an actual bed. And months since I slept on a comfortable bed." Chang explained, speaking calmly.

Great cackled, then picked up his half pint and sipped some beer. "Are you really sure you're younger than me?" He quipped.

"Pft, just a few months of difference don't--"

"A few dozens of months of difference." Great interrupted him. When Chang gave him a leer in response, he snickered. 

"Well, being older should also make you more mature than me..." Chang then replied, crossing his arms on his chest.

Great thought about it for a bit, and eventually decided to let that dig pass. It was a good retort, and at the moment he didn't have a good reply for it. "But all jokes aside, I think--"

"Jokes? Was that supposed to be humor?" Chang interrupted him.

"I think you're right." Great went on, ignoring the other's remark. "We should really call it a day. That way, tomorrow we can be up early, and see more of the city during the day, in all its glory."

Chang raised an eyebrow. "You really can't think about taking a break, can you?" He heaved out a sigh. "Anyway, fair enough, I'd love to visit the city too. How about, before dinner, we go buy a guide, so we can plan ahead?"

Great grimaced. He wasn't much the type for making plans when visiting a city, and preferred to improvise and just discover things on his own - especially in this case, he wanted to be surprised by how things had changed in Dublin since the last time. But on the other hand, this time he had company, and it was his duty as a gentleman to help his guest get more familiar with the, for him, new city.

"Alright then." Great eventually decided to say, his expression turning into a smile. "Let's finish our drink, and on the way we'll pick up a guide to the city or two." He added.

"Alright then, that's perfect." Chang replied. "I admit I only know a couple of things about Ireland, and most of it has to do with its beers and whiskeys. I wouldn't know where to start visiting this city, so I'm completely in your hands."

"Then we'll also go on a small tour about the dining and the drinks. You will not go away disappointed, trust me." Great replied. "But I'll also be more than happy to show you the city and explain you about its history, especially when it comes to art. There's a lot to talk about, every corner here has so many stories to tell."

"And you love to talk, which I guess explains why you picked this place." The other commented, jokingly, before finishing his half pint.

For a moment Great was tempted give a snarky answer to that, but as he thought of a good retort he found himself realizing that yes, that wasn't too far away from the truth, at least given the side of himself he had shown Chang until then. And besides, it wasn't like the other had said that with malicious intentions, so there was no need for that kind of reaction. He just put the best, most flashy grin he could on his face, gave a shrug and replied: "Indeed, my friend, indeed."

After calmly finishing his beer and paying, the two walked out of the pub. Once outside, the first thing that caught Great's attention was the plaque hanging against the wall next to the entrance of the local, boasting how that place was one of the stops in a sort of literary pilgrimage that, every year, the fans of a famous book liked to carry out to celebrate it.

A small smile came to his mouth, as he remembered about how, last time he had been in Dublin, he had taken part in it as well, despite not being a fan of the book itself - he had tried to read through it a couple of times, but had never been a fan of modern literature and that book hadn't helped his opinion of it. But on the other hand, as an aspiring artist himself, taking part into that small ritual was something he had to try out.

As he thought about this, a strange feeling of regret started to rise inside him: had it really been a good idea to come here, if his intention was not to think of the past? Every corner of Dublin had indeed a story to tell, especially the ones he himself had visited in the past, when he was young, wide eyed and more prone to flights of fancy. Before reality had decided to crumble down right on his head, and showed him just how ridiculous and idea it had been to try and live a life based only on such ephemeral things as art.

No, he was realizing now, Dublin hadn't been the best choice. Then again, he had just promised Chang he would have guided him throughout the city, he couldn't just go back on his word like that. And he had his big mouth to thank for it...

"Hey, you in there? Is everything alright?" Chang asked, snapping Great back to reality. He had never been happier to have someone disturb him while lost in his thoughts.

"Yes, yes..." He replied, flatly. "Just thinking of something, nothing serious."

His tone mustn't have been too convincing, since the concerned expression on Chang's face turned into a very visible frown. Great was about to say something else to reassure him, but before he could the other man's expression had turned into a more obliging smile. "So, before you were talking about going somewhere tonight, but you didn't have a clear idea where to. Would you like to take a stroll right now, just to see how things have changed?" He asked.

The other couldn't help being surprised: "Weren't you tired, a few minutes ago?"

"A little walk around isn't going to kill me." Chang replied, looking almost defiant with his hands on his hips and his chest puffed out. "And like you said, I'm the younger of the two of us. I can deal with this and much more. Wherever you want to go, I can keep up without problem!"

Great couldn't help smiling at that, in part because of how undeniably silly Chang looked while trying to pull off that kind of attitude, and in part because he could see what he was trying to do - cheering him up by doing what he thought he wanted to do. If only Chang had known that, right in that moment, he had started to share the idea of going back into their hotel room right away. "Alright then. So, you want to go somewhere in particular?"

"Whatever place makes you smile." The other replied promptly, the expression on his face as he was done speaking quickly betraying the fact he hadn't completely thought it through before answering, and had just accidentally spoken out his mind. Great couldn't help breaking out laughing at that.

"Oh, shut up and stop acting like an immature kid. You know what I actually meant." Chang then said, crossing his arms on his chest and looking to his side.

"Sure, sure." The other replied, still unable to put on a straight face. 

"I'm serious!" Chang blurted out. He then shrugged and threw his hands up. "Bah, whatever, I got my result anyway, I guess, so nevermind." He said, exasperated.

"It's alright, it's alright... _pffft_ , I get it, and I appreciate it..." Great said, still catching his breath.

Chang heaved out a sigh. "It's just, I hate seeing people with that face you made before. I've seen it a lot, and I want to avoid seeing it again if I can help it."

"Huh..." Great mumbled, completely taken by surprise by how candid and spontaneous that admission had been. When he snapped out of it, he couldn't help feeling strangely happy to realize that his speculations about Chang maybe weren't wrong - and immediately after that, slightly guilty for having thought that. "Alright then, if that's what you want. First of all, let's find a bookstore and get a guide. And maybe a novel or two, I can't fall asleep nicely if I don't read something before bedtime." He eventually said.

"Fine by me." Chang said, finally composing himself. "You lead the way, I'll follow you."

Great gave him a last look, then started to walk back in the direction from which they had come, smiling to himself: despite a certain lingering feeling of worry, he felt much more sure now, if only because he was sure that, with Chang following him, he wouldn't have had time to stop and wallow in his melancholy. Besides, this was Dublin, a city where every corner told a story, there were many more, much happier he could focus on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever in this franchise there's a continuity where these two don't have some banter, that error must be fixed. So, to start off, I did.
> 
> Update: I rewrote the ending by adding some paragraphs. The first version ended with Great deciding to buy a couple city guides, and the parts I added are a reworking of my original idea for the ending I had originally thought of. When I first published it, however, I felt like it would have made the story more angsty than I intended it to be, so I took it out, even if that way the story ended more abruptly - I considered it more satisfying than the original version.
> 
> As I re-read the story to fix typos and received feedback, however, I started to feel it was too abrupt, and while working on the other chapters a few of them were turning out to have more dark and angsty moments than I initially intended them to be. Because of this realized that the original ending wouldn't have felt too out of place, so I reworked it and added it back.
> 
> This was supposed to be a shorter, more lighthearted story, just to break up my current streak of Extremely Serious Fics, especially for this fandom, but didn't turn out that way. It will be for next time, I guess.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time she had seen that figure had been about a week prior, while walking through the flea market in the park near home. She had walked past a small crowd of people and had caught a glimpse of that man from behind, looking among some old books lined on a table. Her eye had been caught by the uncanny resemblance that man had with Albert. But it couldn't be him, just walking around like that.

She had stood still for a few moments, staring at the man's back, and finally decided to walk away before he could turn around and notice her. For one, she didn't want to look like some sort of creep, and keeping on looking at him would have just made her sad, and that wasn't the reason she had was there, to a place with so many people, to keep her brain busy with something else - that, and going somewhere more fresh, to find some relief from the weather that day. She plunged back into the crowd, and looked around for her friend.

"Hilda! Hil-- Oh, here you are." A familiar voice behind her said. "What happened? Did you find anything interesting?"

She shook her head. "No, sorry Hülya. I just had a moment..." She explained, bringing her hand to her forehead.

"Ouch... you should be careful, with this weather and all these people around... want to sit down and drink something?"

"Yes, thank you. I need it." Hilda replied.

"Okay, come with me. There's a kiosk behind the corner. Do you need help to walk?"

"No, I can do that myself."

"Alright, follow me." Hülya replied. "Then, when you're feeling better, we'll go to that stand that sells vintage clothes I had told you about. It's not too far either."

"Really? Great!" Hilda said, sincerely happy to hear that. If there was something that would have helped her get her mind off what had just happened for good, this was it.

That however hadn't worked, as she had found herself keeping on thinking of that familiar looking man almost each day after that. Each time, what she felt about it was completely different, and could wildly oscillate between blind rage to complete sadness, from a strange melancholic happiness to indifference. A perfect representation of how she felt about the whole situation - and how she felt about Albert himself, in fact.

The second time, it was on the landing in front of her apartment. It was seven in the evening, and she had just come back from work completely tired, although less because of the overtime she had done that day, and more due to the heatwave that didn't seem to want to leave Berlin. All she wanted was to go back home and take a shower, eat something and go straight to bed to rest, so much that when she had first seen the figure in front of the door, she had blamed fatigue.

This had changed when, getting closer, the man had turned around alerted by her footsteps, and she had been able to see his face clearly despite the sunglasses he was wearing. And the expression of surprise and shock he was wearing completely dispelled any doubt she could have had.

"H-Hello, Hilda." He said, smiling thinly, almost timidly. It took her some time to react, in part because of her own surprise and in part because it was the first time she had ever seen that sort of meek expression on his face, which had made him look almost unrecognizable. But there was no room for mistake, that was Albert.

Still slightly confused, she approached him with quick, long steps and slapped him as hard as she could, so much she caused him to turn his head to his side. Then, after he had turned his head back to face her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss on his mouth. As she did, a shiver run through her, freezing her in place.

Before she could fully process that, Albert had pushed her away and taken a couple steps backwards. For an instant, the expression on his face looked almost scared, she noticed. "Don't... touch me." He said in a tone that, while trying to sound firm, was too shaky to be convincing.

In response she let out a snarky, almost spiteful cackle. "You come here and say 'hi' with that dumb grin on your face, and now you're trying to be all tough? God, you're ridiculous."

Albert straightened his face as best as he could and fixed the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. "You're the one to talk. Have you at least managed to make up your mind about what to do?"

Hilda swallowed dry and stepped closer to him. "Y-Yes, yes. But what do you have to say for yourself? Where the fuck have you been until now... and why do you think you can just waltz back here like nothing were, and act like nothing--" After slapping him she had started feeling a strange, dull sensation in her right hand that, slowly but steadily, had turned much more noticeable and acute, until she couldn't bear it any longer and had been forced to pay attention to it.

"Shit." Albert mumbled as he reached out to take Hilda's hand in his, gently passing his fingers on the palm of her hand. For some reason, him holding her hand gave her a chill that brought a momentary relief to the pain.

Before she could understand what was going on, Albert looked to her and said: "Nothing seems broken, but--"

"Why... should I have anything broken?" Hilda cut into his sentence, pulling her hand away from his grasp.

"Because you're hurting badly, that's why." He replied promptly, his voice slightly altered. He then reached out for Hilda's handbag and, in a more calm tone, went on: "You need to put some ice on that. Give me your keys, I'll go prepare--"

"I can do that on my own, thank you." She interrupted him once again, taking a couple steps backwards. She passed her handbag on her right arm while shaking her hurting hand to try and ease the pain, and clumsily started searching inside it with her free hand.

"Let me help, Hilda." Albert said, tentatively taking a step towards her.

"I'll do it on my own." Hilda repeated, glowering at him. She finished speaking, and managed to find and pull the keys out of her bag. "I've been able to do things without you for a while now." She then added, spitefully, before turning towards the door of her apartment.

"Right..." He replied, his voice so flat she couldn't decipher how he was actually feeling. Now that she thought about it better, by having turned him her back she hadn't been able to see his reaction to her words. Too bad, she thought, a part of her really wanted to see him hurt by her words. "If you don't want me around I understand, but first let me--"

"Don't you dare trying to leave now." She interrupted him, speaking harshly. With some difficulty she managed to unlock and open the door, then moved aside and pointed to corridor. "You have to give me a good explanation first." She added, her voice even more dry than before. Albert seemed hesitant, the expression on his face as close to scared as she had ever seen him. Eventually, without making another sound, he walked inside. Hilda followed him, slamming the door closed behind herself.

The first thing she did was going into the kitchen. She carelessly threw her bag and jacket on the table, then headed for the fridge, picked the ice tray out of the refrigerator and brought it to the sink. While she was pushing the cubes out of the tray, she heard Albert's footsteps approaching her. Without even turning her head, she said: "Go away, I told you I can do this--"

Before she could finish her sentence, Albert had moved an empty ice bag in front of her eyes. "You're not going to do much without this." He then commented while unscrewing its cork.

"I don't need it." Hilda replied, insistently looking into the sink while taking one of the plastic gloves she used to wash the dishes. Before she could do so, however, Albert had started to pick up the ice cubes one by one, and was putting them into the ice bag.

"Use this. Those gloves are gross, who knows what kind of stuff there's in the dish soap you use." He commented.

Hilda let out an annoyed sigh, then turned her head to look at him. Only then she realized he was wearing a pair of leather gloves. "You'll ruin yours if you do that."

"They're ruined already. I use them a lot." Albert said, showing her the opaque and scratched surface of the glove he was wearing on his right hand. He then put the cork back on the ice bag and passed it to her. She gave him a sharp glare, then took it off his hands and walked past him without saying a word.

When she was back in the living room, she sat on the couch and waited for Albert. He didn't sit down, but stood next to it as if he was waiting. "Something to drink?" He asked when she looked at him.

Hilda pointed at the empty seat next to her. "Just sit here, and start talking."

Albert nodded and complied in silence: he sat down leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. He took in a deep breath, then turned his head towards Hilda. "So, alright... before I start, how's your hand--"

"It hurts. Now stop dancing around this, and tell me where the fuck you've been until today!" She said, her voice so dry and low it was almost a hiss.

"Heh..." He let out a small chuckle. "I will, but before I start, let me tell you this is going to be difficult to explain--"

"I have the feeling it's going to be something very familiar."

"No Hilda, this is different. Before I start I need you to calm down, please, and--"

"Just talk, for fuck sake!" She shouted, leaping up to her feet. "Did you find someone, but now she's tired of your shit and she dumped you, so you need a place to stay for the night?"

Albert shook his head. "No, that's not--"

"Then let me guess, she's pregnant. And you want to invite me to the baby shower, huh?"

"Hilda, please, calm down--"

"Or maybe she's pregnant, and you decided to run away?"

He stood up as well, and walked closer to her: "No Hilda, that's not it. I know you're angry, you have every right to be--"

"Shut up!" She yelled, stepping backwards.

Albert chuckled. "You just asked me to talk, and now you want me to shut up already?" He replied, sarcastically. As soon as he was done talking, however, the expression on his face showed he felt sorry about the words he had just said.

Hilda glared back at him, and couldn't tell what annoyed her the most - what he had just said, or the fact he hadn't thought it through and was already sorry. Then again, in that moment everything about him angered her. How much of a fucking moron had he become, trying to crack wise at a moment like this?

Without thinking, she reached out and slapped his sunglasses off his face. "At least look at me in the eye when you're--"

In the commotion of the moment, Albert instinctively raised his hand and covered his eyes. With a quick gesture, Hilda took a hold of his wrist and pulled it away, uncovering his face. She finally got a good look at him and stopped talking, her eyes wide in fear while a yelp escaped her mouth.

At her reaction, he put his hand over her mouth. "Please, please, calm down Hilda! Don't shout, please! It's alright, there's nothing to worry about, I promise!" He said, hastily but in a low voice. All color had drained from her face, and all she could do was let out another strangled, muffled whine.

"Hilda, please, calm down." He then said in a still agitated by slightly calmer voice, trying to push her back to the couch. She wasn't able to make any resistance, as if all energy had left her body, and let him sat her down by gently pushing her by her shoulders. Albert's eyes, they were completely white. It was ghastly, terrifying, but she couldn't stop staring at them.

"Good, good." Albert said, attempting a smile, keeping his hand on her mouth while caressing her cheek with the other. "Now, please, don't scream. I'll move the hand away, but be quiet. Promise?"

She nodded, still frozen in terror. Seeing him, with those blank, empty eyes, and that kind expression on his face was completely off. She realized she was going along with what he was saying only because she was too scared to do anything else.

He slowly moved his hand away, giving her a wide smile. He then leaned towards the floor for one moment, leaving Hilda confused until she saw he had picked up the ice bag. She hadn't even realized she had dropped it.

As he passed her the bag, still smiling, she had another look at his eyes: they really were completely blank, not even the faint trace of his irises and pupils. She had seen people wearing white contact lenses, and it looked nothing like Albert right now. It was simply unnatural and she couldn't avert her sight, no matter how much she tried.

"Sorry, it must be gross to look at me like this." He replied. "A moment, let me get my sunglasses back."

Instinctively, she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. When she did so, she realized how his shoulders had gotten broader. Until that moment, she had thought it was just the shape of the leather jacket that made him look bigger.

"Please don't touch me, Hilda." Albert said in a calm voice. Without protesting, almost obediently, she pulled her hand away.

He stood up from the couch and picked up his sunglasses, then put them back on. "I didn't mean to show you that, sorry."

"...what happened, Albert?"

He let out a low chuckle. "I told you, it's strange. You wouldn't believe it." He turned her his back and let out a sigh. "Sorry again, I should have thought this through before coming here."

Hilda stood up as well and walked in front of him. Seeing her, he turned away again. "Please turn around and look at me, Albert."

"I'm sorry for even coming here and involving you."

"Albert." She said, firmly. Only then he turned to face her.

With slow movements, Hilda reached out with her left hand, trying to get a hold of his sunglasses. Albert took a step back, only to be met by her annoyed glare. He gave her a thin smile and moved forward, then took off the glasses himself, folded them and put them away in a pocket. "Why you'd even want to look at me like this..."

"I want to see what happened to you. You said you came here to talk to me, right? Then go ahead, tell me."

"That wasn't what I actually wanted to do..." He replied with a sad chuckle. "I just wanted to see how you were doing, and tell you it was over between us and that I had built myself another life somewhere else."

"Then why did you keep on denying it, when I asked about it?"

He took in a deep breath, then replied: "Courage failed me at the last moment." A thin, sad grin spread on his face. "But you're right. What a moron I've been, huh? I could have told you some crap, and I would have spared you this." He added, pointing at his eyes.

She shook her head. "Actually, I'm happy you didn't lie to me." She then reached out with her left hand to hold his, but he moved it away. "Why you don't want me to touch you?" Hilda asked.

"When you tried, you hurt your hand like that." Albert said in a tone that was clearly trying to be joking, but came out more like sad. "But seriously, if my face is enough to scare you, you shouldn't."

"It's okay, I already got used to it." She replied. "Come closer, please."

He stood in silence for some moments, lost in thought, before replying: "If you're sure. But don't say I didn't warn you." He slightly spread his arms in a way that looked in part like a resigned gesture, and in part like he was offering her a hug.

For a moment Hilda hesitated, wondering whether that pose was on purpose or it just accidental, but eventually wrapped her left arm around his shoulders and pressed herself against him. His chest felt strange, less warm and soft than she remembered.

Albert noticed her reaction, and chuckled. "Told you so." He commented, dropping his arms to his sides.

Hilda looked up at him, still trying to process everything. She stared at his thin smile, and didn't know how to react. Was he just putting a mask on? Difficult to guess, she wasn't even able to understand if he was looking at her.

Her doubts were finally and mercifully brought to an end not too long after that, when she felt the touch of his hand caressing her head. And, despite his hand feeling so much heavier and cold, even through that leather glove, the kindness in his gesture was clear. Without saying a word, she moved her left hand to his nape, to push down his head and give him a kiss on his mouth. This time Albert didn't make any resistance, and went along with it.

Her first attempt was weird, due to how strange and cold being close to him felt. At first she only managed a peck on his lips, but after taking courage both hands she pushed herself against him once again, and kissed him again. This time she took it slowly, caressing his back and nape - to put him and herself more at ease.

When they broke apart, Hilda looked straight into Albert's face. "See? It wasn't too bad." She said, smiling.

He smiled back. "Why do you have so much patience with me..."

"I've been wondering that for a while." She replied, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"And did you find an answer?"

"Yes. But it would be too shmaltzy for you, you'd start teasing me, and I don't want to ruin this moment." Hilda said before getting on her tiptoes and giving him another kiss.

Albert chuckled, and only then wrapped his arms around her waist. "Don't flatter me too much, or you'll never get rid of me."

"That's the idea."

"It's not a good idea, then. I'll have to leave soon." He said.

His tone had been so flat that, for a moment, Hilda felt a weight in her chest. She opened her mouth, trying to say something, but not a sound came out. She tried a second time, and only then she was able to speak: "Already? But you'll be back after that, right?"

"I don't know. I don't think so." Albert explained, moving his arms away from her.

"But you can at least stay here for tonight. Right?" She decided to say.

Albert looked deep in his thoughts for a short while. "Tonight? I can do that, yes!" Despite his clearly affected tone, Hilda couldn't help notice the note of sincere enthusiasm in his voice as he said the last word. 

"Alright then!" Hilda said, as chipperly as she could. "So let's just enjoy our evening together for now, okay? It's almost time for dinner, how about I go prepare something?"

"Yes, that's good by me." He replied, calmly. "But I'll do it, you just sit down and relax."

"No, I insist! I'm going to help you, and--"

"Even if your hand doesn't hurt anymore, you should let it rest."

Hilda looked carefully at her hand and tried to tighten her fist, only to let out a hiss at the pain: he was right, there was no way she would have been able to do much for that night.

"I guess so..." She then commented. "But I'll lay the table, I can do that without problem."

"Just stop if it starts to hurt again, and call me."

"Of course, don't worry. I'll go immediately--" Hilda said while heading for the kitchen, interrupting herself when Albert blocked her by walking in front of her.

"First you should go get out of that pantsuit and slip into something else." He commented. "Unless you're planning of treating this as some sort of business dinner, of course."

Hilda cursed herself under her breath, she had almost forgotten she was still in her office suit. Then again, her mind was busy with other things, she could forgive herself for that. She bit back a retort about how he, in return, should have put on into something a bit more formal than that ridiculous leather jacket - who knew what he was trying to hide beneath that thing - and composed herself: "Alright then. I'll leave you the choice of menu for tonight, surprise me. Just try not to set fire to anything while I'm changing."

He gave her a grin. "Who do you take me for?"

"You're right. You're more the type to flood the kitchen while preparing breakfast." She replied, mimicking his expression, while passing him the ice bag.

"The tap was broken, I told you a hundred times."

"Not according to the two plumbers I called. Anyway, I'll be right back." She said before turning around with a twirl and heading towards the corridor. She reached the bedroom, closed the door behind herself and, once she was sure she was alone, she slumped to the floor, her legs all of a sudden weak.

Hilda pushed her back against the door, needing the support. With her back pressed against it, the feeling of her heart thumping in her chest was almost amplified through her body. What she was feeling was a strange a mix of happiness and fear, she realized: he was back, and it was him, there was no doubt... but what had happened?

She took in a few deep breaths and stood up. She had to calm down now, this was supposed to be a nice evening together, and she had to make it as beautiful as possible.

She headed for the wardrobe, thinking to get her old flower printed dress, but remembered she hadn't waxed her legs in a week, and that wasn't something she could do in a few minutes - not properly enough to look good, at least. And she had put some weight on in the last few months, that hugging dress was out of the question anyway. She decided to go for a short sleeved t-shirt with a low neckline and a pair of jeans, like the first time they had gone out on a date. He would have appreciated that.

With careful movements, to avoid clenching her right hand too much, she took off her suit. She reached the bathroom, took off her make up and had a quick shower to wash away the sweat. After drying herself, she slipped into the clean clothes and went back to the kitchen, walking as softly as she could. Like she had been expecting, Albert was still busy with the dinner, and had managed to cover every square centimeter the kitchen table with all kinds of ingredients. She gave them a quick glance, then slowly reached him. After being sure he wasn't holding something he could have accidentally dropped, she wrapped her arms around his waist and, getting on her tiptoes, put her chin on his shoulder. "You really are serious about this..." She commented.

"Welcome back." He replied. "But no peeking, you said you wanted this to be a surprise."

"Alright, alright." Hilda said, closing her eyes.

"I haven't cooked for a while, but I should still be good enough."

"Well, nothing smells burnt, so it's a start." She replied, jokingly.

Albert let out a chuckle, then answered: "You always know how to encourage me, don't you?"

"We'll have to eat that, I can't sugarcoat things just to make you happy." She replied, in the same tone as before, then gave him a kiss on his cheek. "Can I put everything in order and start laying the table now?"

"Yes, please. I wouldn't even know where to put half of that stuff."

Hilda opened her eyes and gave him a glare. "You're the one who took all that stuff out!"

Albert slightly tilted his head to his side, then shrugged and concentrated back on the pots. Hilda let out a sigh, then let go of him and turned back towards the table. She quickly put away every single thing on it back at its proper place, then calmly laid down two sets of place mats, napkins, cutlery and glasses right in front of each other.

When she was done she turned around, to see that Albert was looking at her as well, leaning against the counter of the kitchen with his arms crossed on his chest. "You look really nice." He commented.

"Thank you." She replied, walking closer to him and putting her arms around his hips.

Albert smiled and gave her a kiss on the mouth. Then, without breaking apart, he started to step forward, gently pushing her back towards the wall.

Hilda moved back, and said: "Wait, Al. The food--"

"Everything's ready, I already switched it off." He replied. She gave a look past him, to the stove, and made sure he had actually done so. Calming down, she turned her eyes on him and prepared herself: they exchanged another calm kiss, followed by a more passionate one. Without thinking, Hilda grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him closer, while Albert slipped his hand under her t-shirt, caressing her back.

She moved away to catch her breath, and in that moment he let go of her and stepped back, turning towards the stove. "L-Let's eat, before it gets cold." He said, smiling in a clearly affected manner. "Sit down, I'll serve."

Hilda couldn't help feeling disappointed, but mostly confused - that was the very first time Albert had decided to abruptly stop like that while they were making out. And what got to her most was the excuse he had used; him, worried more about the dinner getting cold, instead of having a quickie right then and there, against the wall? She could have started laughing right in his face, but could also imagine why and decided not to.

She returned the smile and sat down at one of the chairs, enjoying the sight of Albert carefully pouring the content of the pan he had been cooking with in two dishes. Still feeling a bit too excited from before, she took in a deep breath and concentrated on him acting like a housewife for her: he would always cook for the two of them after they had a small argument that was his fault, and that was his way of trying to make up with her. At times he would also put on an apron and a kerchief around his head, and act all subservient with her. It always made her laugh, even after having seen that enough times that the novelty should have worn off.

He then turned around and took the dishes to the table. When hers was in front of her, Hilda finally gave a look at what he had prepared, to find out it was just spätzle with cheese. All that mess, and this was it? 

She wasn't angry at the modest dish, only at all the confusion he had made by taking all that food out of the fridge and cupboard like he had done before - it was a pet peeve of hers, she couldn't help it. Then again, she didn't want to get too annoyed at him, definitely not tonight.

"Not the most elaborated dish, I know. But it's the one I'm good at doing, and it's quick, and you must be hungry after a day at work..." He commented, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it, they look and smell good." She said with a wide smile.

"Alright then." Albert answered before sitting down at his place, in front of Hilda. "So, let's dig in."

"Happily. _Bon appetit_." Hilda replied, picking up her fork.

After waiting for her to finish her first mouthful, he asked: "So, does it also taste good?"

She nodded. "Yes, they're good." Nothing special, to be honest, but she didn't want to discourage him.

He put a small smile on his face, looking almost relieved. "Glad to know I'm still good enough at this." He commented. "So, how was your day?"

"The usual, kind of boring." She said. "Computer and phone calls the whole day. But I finished working on some pretty big deal just last month, so at least it's less busy and I have some more free time."

"That's good." Albert answered, picking up a bottle and pouring her some water. 

She finished her mouthful, then replied: "Definitely. Some days I returned back home without voice."

"Really? Did you have to yell?"

"No, I just had to make calls from morning to evening. One time I had to keep calling a client during my lunch break, because he wasn't available during the rest of the day..." She grimaced.

"Ugh..." He mumbled, making a similar expression to hers. "Do you still have the same boss?"

"Nah, Mr. Schultz did get a promotion last year. Now we have someone less demanding, but since he has managed to get more clients we have a bigger workload, so..." Hilda heaved out a sigh, then gave him a smile. "On the bright side, I have some new colleagues and I've made a few new friends, I'll show you their photos later." She explained.

Albert smiled. "And outside of work, did anything happen?"

She shrugged. "Not much. I started taking some swimming lessons, but stopped going to the pool during the period I had that load of work."

"Too bad. With this weather, you should have gone there more often."

"I know, but swimming is too tiring... I prefer to go out with friends to pass the time now. But in general I'd rather concentrate on work, to keep my mind busy."

"That's what you would do, wouldn't you?" He replied, picking up his glass to drink some water.

"Indeed." Hilda answered in the same tone. She brought the last mouthful of spätzle to her mouth, and finished eating it with calm.

Albert calmly finished his dish as well. When he was done, he asked: "Can I get you something else to eat?"

She shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm stuffed already."

"Are you sure? Some fruit?"

"No, I'm fine. But if you want something else, help yourself."

"Nah, I'm good too." He answered, pouring himself another glass of water and drinking it. They looked at each other for a few moments, silently, before Albert stood up from his seat and started collecting the dishes.

"Just leave them in the sink. It's just two dishes and a pan, I'll do it tomorrow morning." Hilda said.

"It's because it's a few things that I can do it without problem." He replied. "Go get something for your hand in the meanwhile, I'll help you dress it."

"There's no need, it doesn't hurt anymore." She replied.

"In any case, you should go sit down and relax. Maybe in the living room, the couch is more comfortable than these chairs. I'll be there immediately."

"Are you sure you don't need any help here?"

Albert shook his head. "Nah. Don't worry, I'm not going to flood anything this time."

Hilda let out a small chuckle. "I hope so. Alright then, I'll be waiting for you on the couch." She said before heading out of the kitchen.

She really would have wanted to help him with the chores, but realized that washing the dishes meant Albert would have had to take those leather gloves off, and he clearly didn't want to show much of himself to her, so she reluctantly obeyed.

Back in the living room she sat on the couch and waited, listening to the noise of running water and clinking dishes coming from the other room. Once again, she couldn't help feeling agitated: her heart was beating fast in her chest, and her breathing getting irregular. Everything was so surreal. What was she going to do, when he would have finished washing the dishes and come to the living room?

Then lightning suddenly flashed out of the window, catching her attention. She stood up and walked to the window to look outside, and saw how gray the sky had gotten. The rumble of a thunder resounded, so she opened the window and brought back in the small cactus and a petunia pot she kept on the balcony, then closed it. When she got back in, she saw Albert standing on the doorstep. "So it's really going to rain."

"Yes, thankfully. At least the weather will get less suffocating." She commented, putting the two vases on the small table in front of the television.

Albert, on the other hand, looked disappointed. "Too bad, I wanted to go out and have a walk together..."

"And why? It's not like we have to stay holed in here."

"This kind of weather isn't too good for me, sadly." He replied as he walked inside the room and took a look around. His attention was caught by a row of framed photos sitting on a shelf.

"They're some of my new friends, you don't know most of them." Hilda said.

"Are these your new colleagues?" Albert asked, pointing at the photo on the left.

"My colleagues are in the picture in the middle. The women in the one you're pointing at are Agneza and Claudia, two friends from swimming."

"I see..." He commented, looking at another photo. "And who's this woman?"

Seeing which image he had pointed at, Hilda smiled a thin grin. "Oh, she's just another new friend, Hülya."

"Is she Spanish?"

"No, Turkish. It's H-ü-l-y-a, not J-u-l-i-a."

"Oh, really? My bad."

"Don't worry. Then again, you know her better by her other name, Yazmin." Hilda said, pointedly. She then waited, and enjoyed the surprised and worried expression that was forming on Albert's face, until she couldn't help a small laugh. "She looks different with short hair, doesn't she?"

Seeing her reaction, he looked relieved. "And... how did you two meet? Now I'm curious." He asked.

"She came here about ten days after you disappeared." Hilda explained. "You had dropped your documents at her place, so she had decided to come and leave them in our mailbox. Me and mom were here that day, so we caught sight of her, stopped her and asked some questions."

"Ah..." He mumbled. "And how did that turn out?"

"We had a huge argument, obviously, especially after finding out why she knew you, and what she does for a living." She said. "Mom still doesn't like her too much, but we became friends, eventually. When she found out you were disappeared she was worried too, and asked around to her colleagues if any of them had seen you since. She also helped me cope with the situation."

"I see..." Albert commented, scratching the back of his neck, while looking at the photo. "Offer her dinner from me for that, next time you see her."

"You can come along and thank her yourself."

"Not sure if I should..." He answered, walking to the couch and sitting down on it. "I'm really sorry, Hilda."

"There's a lot you and I have to talk about, yes. Even if meeting her was one of the best things that could have happened to me back then, and I don't have any anger towards her, you broke the promise you made me last time." She replied, speaking firmly.

"Yes, you're right. Go ahead, say anything you want--"

"No, not now." Hilda interrupted him with a smile. "Tonight we're enjoying ourselves. And I won't accept protests about it, understood?" She added as she reached the couch as well and sat on it next to Albert. She leaned against his chest, and pushed him against the back of the couch.

"...feeling comfortable?" He asked, visibly confused.

"Like I haven't been in a while." She answered, turning her head up to look at him and giving him a kiss on the lips. He smiled back, then ruffled her hair.

"Did you really miss me, all this time?"

She nodded. "You have no idea how much."

He chuckled. "You really should have found someone else by now."

"I tried. It didn't work." She said, casually.

Albert raised an eyebrow. "And who was he, if you don't mind saying?"

"At all, if you don't mind me telling it."

He shook his head. "Absolutely not. Tell me everything."

"Well then. I've been with three men while you were away. The first one was Klaus, my colleague--"

Albert interrupted her with a loud laugh. "What? You? How?"

"I know. Mom said basically the same thing when she found out, only she was less amused: 'You just got rid of that big nosed idiot - her words, not mine - and now you get with him? I thought I had raised you better than that!', she told me."

"For once I agree with her." He replied, trying to stifle another laugh.

"Anyway, it didn't last more than three weeks. Just a rebound relationship after you left, as soon as I realized it I dumped him. It was awful, and we both agreed to never talk about that time ever again." Hilda explained. "Then there was this guy I met one night at a pub, when I was out with friends. A one night thing, can't even remember his name. It was a couple weeks after I ended things with Klaus."

Albert looked surprised. "That soon? And just sex?"

"I was angry at you. He approached me, offered to pay my check, and couldn't have been any nicer to me. It was clear what he was aiming at, and I was okay with it, I really needed to feel like someone wanted me, that I wasn't just complete garbage. Some days later I started regretting it, though." She explained.

"You shouldn't have, if that's what you needed." He said, caressing her cheek.

Hilda gave him a surprised look. "Are you really not angry, or even annoyed, about it?"

"It's not like I have any right to be." Albert calmly replied. "If he really treated you well and helped you, it's good, you deserved it. Anyway, go on."

She nodded, and went on: "The last guy was Jürgen, a university student. It was last year-- no, ten months ago. We've been together for four months, then he said he had found another woman he liked more, and we broke up without hard feelings. In the last month it was just about sex, and it wasn't what I was looking for."

He run his hand in her hair. "Of course. That sounds more like you."

"Alright then, how about you? How many women have you been with, during the time you've been away?"

"Zero, believe it or not."

"I believe you." She replied, hoping that her tone hadn't sounded too chipper or sarcastic. She didn't want to give him the impression she was making any kind of remark about how he looked.

"Besides, even if I had wanted to... I had a lot of other stuff on my mind." Albert then said in a somewhat grim tone, making her worry even more.

Hilda hesitated a few moments, trying to find the right word to say in reply. Eventually she decided to just put her left hand on his, without taking her sight off him. Much to her surprise, she had already gotten used to his eyes, and to how his face looked like now. She then felt his arm around her shoulders, holding her tight.

Some silence, then Hilda looked up at him. "Al?"

"Yes?"

"Want to move to the bedroom?"

"Are you already tired?"

"No." She replied with a smile.

He smiled back. "I'm sorry, but I'm not really in the mood."

"Oh, no, not for sex. Just, you know... getting comfortable, and lay in bed together."

Albert opened his mouth, about to say something, but not a word came out. He looked pensive. "Only with the lights off." He finally said.

"Okay." She replied before giving him a kiss. "I'll go first. If you need to use the bathroom, the towels are in their usual--"

The phone started ringing, making Hilda interrupt herself. She quickly reached the corridor, checked the name of the caller and replied: "Hi mom."

"The moron is there, isn't he?" The other woman replied. "Miss Muller just called me, she said she heard you two shouting and--"

"Yes, Albert is here." Hilda interrupted her mother. "We did have an argument, but now we're talking things out."

"She said she heard you scream loudly at one point. What did he do to you?"

Hilda mentally cursed herself, she had almost forgotten about that. "I just hit the wall while I was angry, that's all. My hand hurts a bit, but that's really it." She said, taking a mental note about it so that the next day she could tell that story to her neighbor.

"I see. I'll be right there, give me ten minutes--"

"No, mom. We're dealing with it and--"

"There's nothing that needs to be worked out, the only thing for him to do is go away for good and leave you in peace."

"Mom, please."

"Can't you understand that he's--"

"I know what you think of him, mom. I don't care." She interrupted her mother, speaking firmly.

There was silence from the other side of the line. "Why do you keep on siding with him, Hilda?"

"I already told you. Many times. I hoped that by now you would have understood it."

A sigh. "You could have much, much better than him."

"We've already been over this too, and you know what I think of that, too."

More silence. "At least, did he say where he's been all this time?"

"Yes." Hilda replied. It wasn't completely true, but it didn't feel like a lie to her. Whatever had happened to Albert, this definitely wasn't like the other times he would just disappear from home with the excuse of work, and come back a few days after his job was supposed to be done with a few hundred euro less in his pocket or bank account. She still didn't have the details, but that much was obvious. For the details, she would have waited until Albert felt like telling her.

Another sigh. "If Ms. Muller calls again telling me you're shouting, I'm coming there and kicking him out, no matter what."

"No mom. That won't happen again, but I don't want you to come here either. It's about me and him, and I want to solve this myself." She answered. Then, speaking in a slightly more upbeat tone, she added: "I did start this by myself, after all. It's only fair I take care of it myself as well."

Hilda heard her mother make another strange noise from the other side of the line, and couldn't exactly tell whether it was yet another sigh or something else. "If you're so sure of yourself... just remember that, if you need me, I'm here for you, and I can be there in a few minutes."

"I know, mom. And I couldn't be happier to know you're worried about me. But this is something I want to settle on my own. So, please..."

Another noise, only this time it sounded more clearly like a chuckle, which surprised Hilda. "I see. Well then, go where your heart takes you, as they say. Just be careful."

"Thanks, mom. I will." She replied, a smile spreading on her face.

"Have a nice evening and night. And don't forget to take your plants in, it's about to rain."

"I've already done that, but thanks for reminding me. Anyway, good evening and good night to you too. See you this weekend."

"See you then, bye." She replied. Hilda waited until she heard the tone telling her that the call had been ended, put down the receiver as well and turned around.

"You, talking to your mother like that? And she gave up that quickly and easily?" Albert commented, leaning against the wall opposite from her.

"Let's just say that things changed a lot since you left." She answered. "I'll tell you more in detail another time, just know she mellowed out a lot about you."

He put a grin on his face. "She's probably afraid you'll go after Klaus, if I disappear again."

Hilda looked offended for a moment, but then burst out in a laugh. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Nah, don't worry." He replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. "That was a stupid joke and I'm not going to talk about that ever again, sorry."

"It was kind of amusing, actually. But yes, let's forget about that for good."

Albert nodded. "And how is your mother doing, in general?"

"The usual. She started wearing glasses because she became farsighted, but aside from that she's as healthy as usual."

"Happy to hear that." He replied, letting go of her. "Anyway, if you need to go to the bathroom first..."

"Oh, thank you." Hilda answered. "It will just take a minute, don't worry. Can I prepare a pajama for you?"

After thinking about it for a moment, he replied: "No, I don't think I would fit in my old things. If you even kept them, that is. I'll wrap myself in a blanket."

"Okay, they're in the wardrobe, usual corner." She gave him a peck on the cheek, then said: "I'll be right back, one minute."

Hilda walked to the bathroom, quickly washed her teeth and put some pomade on her right hand, then went to the bedroom, leaving the place to Albert who had been waiting in the corridor with a folded blanket in his hands. She put on her nightgown, closed the curtains and lowered the shutter, turned on the lamp on her bedside table and switched off the main light. As she got back to the bed, she started hearing the noise of droplets of water starting to hit the shutter, followed by another thunder. 

She got under the covers and waited, listening to the rhythmic, repeated noise coming from outside. Much to her surprise, she was feeling calm now right - her heart, her breathing, everything was normal.

She was about to sleep in the same bed with Albert after so long, and being so close to him she could have accidentally found out something else about what had happened to him, and why he didn't want to show her his body - heck, knowing herself she wouldn't have been able to fall asleep until she had found out. And yet, she felt calm like she hadn't in a long while. She lay there, waiting for Albert to be done and join her in bed, without any hurry. Maybe it was just the rain outside, or the fact that her mother seemed not to have taken the fact he was there as badly as she usually would have - and also the fact that Albert had shown some concern for her, rather than act rude like he usually would have. That evening almost everything was going right, to an almost scary level.

They had never gotten along, mom and Albert, and that had always frustrated Hilda. Her mother had never cared for the fact she had decided to get with a trucker from former East Berlin, of all people she could have chosen from - and never mind the fact that, when the Reunification had happened, he was still in elementary school, an Easterner is always an Easterner, according to her.

On his part, Albert never even tried to hide that he wasn't fond of this snob Hamburgese woman who openly resented him because, among the other things, he hadn't gone to university, and wouldn't even try to make an effort to understand that the reason he had been held back twice during high school was family issues. That's just what Easterners are like, she said. So, just to annoy her, he would talk to her only in Berliner dialect, or pushing his Berliner accent to almost comedic extremes, something that more often than not would bring her to the brink of rage, even in public. 

No matter how much Hilda tried to work as a mediator between them, they didn't budge from their positions and try to find a common ground for even a second, which deeply distressed her: they were the two most important people in her life, it was painful to see them at each other's throat for something that stupid.

And then it had turned out that Albert had the habit of sleeping around when he was away for work. It did sting, sure, but a part of her was ready to turn an eye to it: because of his work her and Albert spent a lot of time away from each other, so she could ignore him going with other women as long as he kept it to himself.

For her mother, however, that was the confirmation she was right about him, under each and every other possible aspect, and wasn't subtle or tactful about this when bringing that fact up. One time she had even started talking about it right in the middle of a supermarket packed with people. _'He's been away for almost a month this time'_ , she had whispered, almost casually. _'You should go and have yourself checked, you might never know--'_

 _'Of course we use protections when we fuck! What kind of woman do you take me for?'_ Hilda had then shouted in reply, so livid and exasperated by her mother's attitude that she didn't care if the people around them heard.

It was only a couple of days later, while thinking about that episode with a clear mind, that Hilda had realized just how weird her priorities had been, getting angry at her mother instead of Albert, who deserved it much more. But at the same time, the way her mother had brought that up, knowing how she felt about it...

Now that she thought about it, that wasn't the first time her mother had acted like that, either. She had never forced her and Albert to break up, or openly asked it, but at the same time she was all too ready to criticize him like that, and openly show her contempt for him. The worry about her daughter's partner being a philanderer, that Hilda could understand, but her constant focusing on the smaller things... it had never struck her like that until then.

Then one day Albert had disappeared, vanished into thin air like nothing were. Her mother's theory about what could have happened to him was obvious, but Hilda would always find herself replying to what her mother said, defending Albert to the bitter end, even when mom was undeniably right about him. Still, she couldn't stand the idea she would try to speak ill of him in his absence, even if some of the things she had to say were true, especially not after the realization she had had.

And then they had met Hülya and learned about her, so things had gotten even worse and more complex, but Hilda still kept on defending him. And after months of this, her mother had seemingly given up trying to speak badly of him when with her, possibly reassured by the fact that now he was away, and eventually she would have gotten over him.

But despite the facade she kept up with her mother, the suspect, anger and resentment were still with her, quietly taking root in her mind. Since then, the idea that Albert had found someone else and that was the reason why he had disappeared like that, without saying a word, had constantly been in the back of her mind, as irrational as she realized it was - if that was the case, why was he pretending to be legally disappeared? It made no sense and would have made things impossible for him, if he really wanted to build a new life. And yet a part of her kept on thinking this could have been a serious possibility, and she had even slowly stopped to protest whenever her mother casually and more rarely brought it up.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the noise of footsteps became more noticeable, meaning that Albert was coming to the room, and instinctively she turned towards the door. When he walked past the doorstep, he had completely wrapped himself in the blanket like it was a cape. He looked a bit silly, but she managed to avoid laughing or even smiling at the sight. "Sorry for taking that long." He said.

"Don't worry. Come here now." She replied. She looked as he reached a chair on his side of the bed, and slipped his clothes on it from under the blanket. He then turned to the bed, pulled up the covers and went under them, always holding the blanket close to himself. He was still wearing those leather gloves, Hilda noticed, and couldn't help a small laugh.

"So, are you done? Can I turn off the light now?" She then asked.

"Yes, please."

Hilda switched off the lamp, turned back towards Albert and scuttled closer to him and caressed his face to feel where his mouth was. It was only then she realized just how strangely smooth the skin of his face was. It was just a moment, however, as she decided to ignore it for now. She kissed him a few times, each time more intimately, until they both had to break apart and catch their breath.

"I missed you too." He whispered. Hilda felt his hand running through her hair.

She caressed his lips with her fingertips. "How does this feel?"

"Good." Albert replied in a breathy voice before gently pushing her head closer to his. Hilda let him guide her, and they kissed again.

When they moved away, she whispered: "Take off that blanket..."

He swallowed audibly, then replied: "No, let's stop here."

"Even if we're in the dark?"

"Yes. But it's good, really good, so... enough, please."

"Okay. Still, I'm happy to know you enjoyed it." Hilda said. She gave him a last peck on the lips and laid down next to him, her head close to his and her left hand on his chest. "Al?"

"Yes?"

"Let me hold your hand."

"Sure." He moved his arm from out of under the blanket, and put his hand on hers.

"Without glove."

Hilda felt Albert's hand move away from hers with a quick gesture.

"Please." She said. "I'm not going to be afraid."

He hesitated some moments, then said: "Only the left one."

"Okay." Hilda answered. She heard some rustling, and then felt his naked hand on hers. At first it gave her a chill, so cold it was, but she immediately took a hold of it, lacing her fingers with his.

"Feeling okay?" He asked.

"Yes." She replied, and felt Albert's other arm wrapped around her waist. They then stood in silence, the rain hitting the shutter as background noise.

The rhythmic ticking and the calm she was feeling lulled Hilda asleep quicker than she would have expected. Her sleep was as quiet and peaceful, and when she opened her eyes again it was already morning, almost as if only a few minutes had passed.

She turned her head to her bedside table, still slightly confused, and noticed that her alarm clock still had to ring. She tossed around in bed and sat up, slowly getting back to her senses, when she realized something - she was alone in bed. And in the room.

She leaped on her feet and out of the bedroom. Once in the corridor, she heard some noise coming from the kitchen and headed there, to see Albert putting a carton of milk back in the fridge.

"Oh, 'morning." He replied, turning his head towards her.

Her first reaction was to let out a sigh of relief, immediately followed by a half laugh when she realized he had already gotten back in the same outfit from the day before, including the leather jacket and gloves. "Morning, Al." She said, walking towards him and wrapping her arms around his neck. She gave him a peck on his cheek, then said: "I'm afraid I'm out of oranges for you, but I can fix something else."

"It's okay, don't worry." Albert replied. "I was preparing something for you, I'll get something at a cafè."

"Then we can go out and eat something together. There's a new bakery at the end of the street, we can--"

"I can't stay too long, Hilda." He interrupted her, speaking in such a flat, manner-of-fact tone that, for a moment, sent a chill through her spine.

"Any why?" She asked, worriedly. "You can stay all the time you want."

Albert took her arms and gently untangled them from around his neck. "I really liked the evening we passed together, and for that I thank you again. But you don't have to keep on showing pity to me like this--"

"It's not pity." Hilda interrupted him.

He gave her a sad, clearly forced grin. "You were rightfully angry at me yesterday, and completely changed your attitude when you saw my face. What else could it be?"

"I don't pity you Albert, I just want to help you. I saw you like that, and realized that whatever happened to you, it wasn't something you did yourself, or by your own choice. I just couldn't be angry to you any more." Hilda replied, speaking in a serious tone. "Besides, there are still a lot of things you need to answer me about, my dear." She explained, her tone getting more lighthearted and with a sly smile on her face. "After all, if you want to get back in my good graces, you should--"

"That's not what I'm here for." He said. "I wanted to see if you had moved on, and if you hadn't tell you to do so, remember? And from what you told me you almost did that, you said you had a boyfriend for some time."

"'Boyfriend' is too big a word for what happened with Jürgen." Hilda replied. "But are you really sure you want to leave me?"

"Of course!" Albert replied. "I mean, it's better for the both of us, especially you." He then added, more meekly.

She smirked. "Really? In that case, go ahead and tell me that you're dumping me, and that you want to have nothing more to do with me."

He hesitated. "That's not it..."

"See?" Hilda said, almost chipper. "You clearly don't want to leave, either."

"Of course I don't--" He answered, abruptly interrupting himself.

She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. "It's okay, Albert. You can stay here with me as long as you want. You missed me, and so did I. And we both need to work some things out." She said, her voice calm and hushed, almost a whisper. "I sure know I do."

He hesitated, then answered. "By now I'm sure you understood what's up with me. You probably had a peek while I was sleeping, too. So, are you really sure?"

She nodded. "I'm positive. It's still you in there, isn't it? That's all I want and need, I'm okay as long as I can talk and joke and be with you." She replied. "And just to be clear, I didn't take a look at you while you were sleeping. If you don't want to show yourself, I won't pry."

He let out a sigh. "We won't be able to live a normal life like before, I..." He paused. "You should find someone else, for good."

"Then we'll go live somewhere else, away from the city. On the mountains, somewhere in the Alps." Hilda replied, deciding to ignore the second part of what he had said.

"Are you really sure you want to leave Berlin?"

"I got used to Berlin after leaving Hamburg behind, I'll get used to wherever else we'll go."

"How about your mother and all your friends, old and new? Are you really going to leave all of them, just for me?"

Hilda stood still and silent, not knowing what to say. Trying to cheer him up wasn't going to work right now, she realized, and decided to change tactic altogether. She straightened her face and, staring at him, said: "I want to do something for you, that's all."

"There isn't much--"

"I know, and as little as that might be, I want to try it."

He chuckled. "Thank you, but I don't need it."

"Then why did you decide to stay here last night?"

Now it was Albert who looked hesitant, and unable to find the right words to say. Hilda quickly softened her expression and gave him a smile, then let go of his waist and took his face between her hands. "Say what you will and act like a stubborn macho as much as you want, Al, but it's obvious you need this as much as I do. I know you like the back of my hand by now, but anyone could see it."

He looked at her, his jaw hanging open. " _You_ need it, Hilda?"

She nodded. "These three years, I went on not knowing what had happened to you, not know how to feel about you - I had no idea if had you been kidnapped, or were living another life with another woman and just didn't care about me anymore, or worse... seeing you here, even if... in this state... I couldn't be happier... and I feel awful about it because... I can't even start to imagine how it must be for you."

She stopped talking and took in a deep breath, closing her eyes to try and hold back the tears that were threatening to start spilling out. In that short pause, Albert took her face in his hands and kissed her. Hilda was taken by surprise at first, but quickly moved her hands to his shoulders and kissed him back. When Albert moved back, he dropped his hands and pressed his face against the crook of her neck and shoulder. Hilda stood still, enjoying his warm breath against her skin.

When he raised his head and looked at her, she took his hand in hers and, without saying a word, pulled him along with her. Albert didn't make any resistance, and followed her back to the living room. She took him to the couch and made him sit down, all without taking her eyes off him or saying a word. As difficult it was to understand where he was looking, Hilda was sure she had his whole attention as well.

"Now, Albert, let me be clear." She said, trying to be as firm as she could, but unable to hide a hint of kindness. "If you really want to leave I understand why, and if you have someone else, somewhere else, I'll accept it. But there's a lot we still have to settle, and I need it to put my heart at peace. So don't think that getting out of my life like this, right away, will help me. It would just make things worse."

Albert gave her a small smile and nodded. "I don't have anyone else, I promise. If you want me to stick around for a while, okay. That's the least I can do for you."

Hilda smiled back. "And I want to do something for _you_. So, please, let me help you get back on your feet, in any way I can. You can stay here for as long as you need--"

"I wish I could, Hilda, I really do." He interrupted her. "But I'd rather not have more people know that I'm here, and especially what happened to me."

"Yes, I understand that. If you need to keep a low profile, we can arrange that. We can leave for a while, I can take a couple of weeks off work and we can somewhere else, spend some time--"

"No." He said, firm. "You can't just leave all of a sudden like this--"

"Okay. Then not right now." She interrupted him. "The summer holidays are just a few weeks away. We can go somewhere then. Maybe in Tyrol, on the Italian side. You liked it last time we went there, remember?"

Albert seemed at loss for words, but from the look on his face she could tell he didn't seem to hate the idea. That was enough for Hilda to start talking again: "We can rent an apartment in some hamlet, and spend time hiking in the mountains, or just at home. You and me, alone. And if you don't want anyone to know, it's fine, I'll say I'm going on my own, and you'll come with other means. I won't tell anyone else."

"If you're sure..."

"I'm more than sure." She replied, almost cockily. Then, in a more calm manner, she added: "And if not this summer, we can do it in winter. Whenever it's better for you. Just this once."

He breathed in and out, anxiously. "Hilda, please... tell me one thing first, and be honest."

"...sure." She said, taken by surprise by the shaky tone of his voice.

"Are you doing this just because you pity me now? Or is there another reason? Even if it's pity, I'll follow you, but just say it. I need to know, I don't want to delude myself..." Albert's voice started faltering, and he interrupted himself.

"Al..." Hilda caressed his face. "It's not pity, I promise. On dad's grave. I sincerely want to help you."

He lowered his head, and she caressed his nape.

"After what I've done--"

"Shush." She interrupted him. "We'll talk about it another time, when we'll both be less shaken. Please."

Albert raised his head, smiling. "You deserve so much better than me..."

"If you really were the person you pretend to be, I'd have dumped you years ago." Hilda replied. "I love you for the good parts of you, and came to tolerate the bad ones, even if in some cases I should have actually done something, talked about it with you, or anything like that. But that's what you've done as well, am I right?"

He nodded, then wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She didn't say a word and caressed his back in return.

"I'll do my best not to disappoint you, or making you regret giving me a second chance." He said, letting go of her. "I'm not making a promise, I'm not too good at keeping them, but I will give it my all."

"I look forward to it." Hilda replied before giving him a kiss on the lips. She then leaned against his chest, and they stood like that, looking at each other in complete silence, for some time.

"Don't you need to go to work today?" Albert said after a while, breaking the silence.

"I'll take a day off." She replied. "My hand is still swollen, I don't think I'll be able to type or do much else at work for today."

Albert took her hand and checked it carefully. He then looked up at Hilda and raised an eyebrow. "You're right. But only until it heals, you don't have to skip work for me."

"Only today, I promise. As soon as the office is open I'll call them and ask for a day."

"Good. And in the afternoon, go to the doctor and have it checked, if it still looks like this."

"I will. I mean, if we want to go on holiday together, I need to go to work and make the money for it, after all." She said, jokingly.

He chuckled. "Talking about going away, in a couple of weeks I'll have to go to France for a few days. There are some people I need to meet."

"And who, if I can ask?"

"I can't tell you yet. But if everything goes right, I'll introduce them to you soon."

She was silent for a few moments, then sat up and asked: "Is it something dangerous?"

"They're some of the nicest people I've ever met. That's why I want you to meet them, eventually." He explained, smiling.

"Tell me you'll be back immediately after that."

"I'll call you every day."

"Okay. I'll hold you to that." Hilda replied, before leaning against his chest once more.

Hearing him mention France, for a moment she was reminded of that weird French guy - Arnoul, or something like that. He had arrived to her home one evening, and had started asking questions about Albert. Then he had showed her some photos, including one of herself and Albert that they had taken a few years prior while they were on holiday together, which had worried her. He had then started talking some nonsense about a secret organization being behind the disappearance of all those people, and she had been about to excuse herself for a moment, to go send a message to ask her mother to come there with someone else. But before she could do so, he had mentioned that his sister had disappeared as well, and she had imagined that the man was just shaken and delirious because of that.

In the end, she had offered him coffee and biscuits, and then dinner, and had let him talk, to get out of his chest everything he was holding in, but without giving too much weight to what he was saying. Before leaving she had given him her number, and told him to call her whenever he felt like it, if only to talk whenever he felt down. Since then he had called a few times, mostly on Christmas to wish her the best. In return she wished him a merry Christmas as well, and that she hoped he would have found his sister soon.

Until that moment, everything about him had remained tucked in a corner of her mind. After thinking about it, she decided not to ask anything to Albert for the moment; if Arnoul actually had something to do with what had happened, bringing him up would have made things worse.

Besides, if he was one of the people he had mentioned before, she would have known soon. And if that had been the case, boy it would have been fun to find out that she should have taken that weirdo seriously from the very start.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a noise coming from the bedroom, which resounded through the apartment: the alarm clock, she had forgotten to switch it off for good. She and Albert exchanged a look, and they both let out a small laugh.

"Stay there, I'll go turn it off and get back." Albert said, letting go of her and standing up.

"Okay." She replied. Some moments later, when he was on the doorstep, she added: "Wait, let's move to the bedroom instead. The bed is more comfortable."

He turned back and looked at her. "Alright, just give me time to slip back in my blanket."

"Okay. I'll do a couple of chores in the meanwhile." She replied, and looked as he walked out of the living room.

Hilda waited for the noise of the alarm clock to be finally over, then opened the window. She picked up the cactus and the petunia, walked outside and put them back on the balcony.

Once outside, she found herself in the midst of a cold breeze that sent a shiver through her. She put the vases down, and breathed in the air: the heatwave seemed to have gone for good, finally. It was so nice, after weeks of going to bed in a pool of sweat, and waking up feeling sticky and dreading the moment the temperature would have shoot up again. It was so nice to be able to breathe in and feel invigorated like that, after all those weeks.

She leaned on the rail of the balcony and looked in front of herself: nothing too interesting, just the dawn and the rows of other apartment complexes standing all around, left and right. She just wanted to feel the breeze run over her, blowing through the fabric of her nightgown and making her feel more awake. It had been a long while since she had felt this clear minded, and the wind helping her to chase the last few winks of sleep away made it better.

She turned around and walked back into the apartment, closed the window behind herself and headed for the kitchen, to put in order whatever Albert had left around before. Then she got back to the bedroom and lay back in bed next to him, wrapped in his blanket, and got under the covers to warm herself up a bit.

With a smile, Albert moved his hands out from under the blanket, took the glove off from the left one and tended it to her. Hilda took a hold of it, and a small shiver run through her. She smiled back at him, and held it tight: it was such a relief to finally feel so clear minded about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of an experiment at writing a love story of some sort, since I'm crap at them. Not too happy with how this chapter turned out, to be fair, but I published it anyway to avoid keeping on mulling over it.
> 
> It was weird to write Albert as a cheating boyfriend, given how in all other continuities where Hilda is present he couldn't be more loyal to her. But since this version takes place in contemporary Germany, I had to find a different kind of obstacle to him and her having a happy relationship, and usually the biggest problem couples face are their own personal flaws. I also wanted to keep in some form the sense of guilt Albert has towards her in canon, so I thought about what kind of issues could have applied to characters like them without making the story pointlessly dramatic, and went for this.
> 
> However, to make something like this believable for someone like him, I had to establish a few things about their relationship and personalities, and in doing so the story spiraled out of control and got as long as a chapter of one of my usual fics. As for Hilda, I wanted to give her an arc and not just have her be the sad girlfriend waiting for her beloved to be back. Her mother and Hülya had more space and way more weight in her relationship with Albert and her development, but I cut those parts out together with a few details and potential subplots, as the story was already long enough as it was- still ridiculously lengthy though, I know...


	3. Chapter 3

Hearing the footsteps getting closer, the cashier finally averted his attention from the thick manga magazine he had been concentrated on until that moment. His eyes moved to his side, where the customer had just put two bottles of green tea and four onigiri. He put down the comic, scanned the items one by one and with a flat, almost disinterested voice, said: "One thousand fifty yen."

He put everything away in a plastic bag, throwing a glance just to make sure that the payment money was on the counter. Only then finally looked up at the person in front of himself: "Thank you, I hope we'll see you... again soon..." He trailed off on the last few words as that sight almost literally gave him pause, and stared at the other man in dumbfounded confusion.

"The pleasure is mine." The other finally said, smiling widely, as he reached out and took the shopping bag.

"Joe!" The cashier exclaimed. He jumped up to his feet and walked in front of the other.

"Hey, Muramatsu!" Joe replied, stepping closer and putting his free hand on the other's shoulder. "How are things for you?"

"Me?" He answered, sounding almost baffled by those words. "Forget me, how about you? How are you doing?"

Joe chuckled. "Pretty well, I guess."

"...I can't believe this..." Muramatsu mumbled to himself, rubbing his face with one hand. "Where have you been until now?" He said, carefully looking at the other.

"In many places." He replied. "It's a long story, just know that I had to deal with a lot of stuff. But it's over now, thankfully, so I decided to swing by and say hello to a couple old friends."

"...huh..." The other muttered. "Many places..." He repeated.

As he was still recovering from that shock, a voice resounded in the shop. "Who's there, and what's going on?" The figure of a middle aged man appeared from behind one of the aisles.

"J-Just an old friend, don't worry." Muramatsu answered. "Joe, this is my uncle."

Joe nodded, then tended his hand out to the older man. "Pleased to meet you, mister... Muramatsu, I imagine."

"Exactly. I'm the older brother of his mother, pleased to make your acquaintance as well." The other replied, shaking Joe's hand with a stern expression on his face. "And how did you two meet?"

"Back in junior high, we were in the soccer club together. We lost sight of each other after that, sadly."

The older man calmly nodded, his expression slightly softening. "I imagine it mustn't have been difficult for you to recognize him, he hasn't changed a bit since then. Aside from growing taller, that is."

Joe chuckled. "Pretty much."

"And what brings you here?"

"Nothing in particular, I'm just on the way to go visit some friends in Osaka."

"I see." The man commented, his expression giving away he still was suspicious. Joe just smiled back.

After some hesitation, Muramatsu said: "Er... mind if I have a quick talk with Joe? I'll skip the lunch break to make up for it, if it's a problem..."

His uncle gave him a long, silent look, before replying: "Don't skip lunch for something like this. Anyway, don't worry and go enjoy yourself, just don't go too far away, and come back to help when the rush hour starts, understood?"

"Sure, sure. Thank you." He turned at Joe and added: "Alright then, let's go."

Joe nodded. "My treat, if you don't mind." He said, raising the plastic bag with the things he had just bought.

Muramatsu let out a small laugh and put his hands on his hips. "Do you really think that's going to be enough for someone like me? I'll go warm up some rice and curry and join you, give me a minute."

"I'll bring it to you, just go." The older man said. Muramatsu turned his head, an almost shocked expression on his face.

"...thank you." Muramatsu said. He took off the apron with the logo of the convenience store chain printed on it, put it away behind the corner and walked next to Joe, inviting him to come along with a gesture.

The two waited for the automatic doors to slide open, walked outside and reached the corner of the shop. They sat down on a bench, Joe pulled one of the two bottles out from the bag and passed it to the other.

"Thanks." Muramatsu said, taking the bottle and opening it.

"You're welcome." Joe replied, offering him an onigiri as well.

Muramatsu slowly took a sip of tea, then accepted the onigiri. "Thanks for telling my uncle that lie."

"It's nothing. From his look, I could tell he wouldn't have been too happy to learn how we really met." Joe replied, opening his bottle and taking a sip. 

"You still remember about that time I told you that I was the captain of the soccer club?"

Joe laughed. "You kept on talking for almost two hours about that! I couldn't have forgotten if I had tried."

"Talking was the only pass time we had, what else was I supposed to do?" Muramatsu replied in a clearly fake stern voice, before joining in laughing as well.

When they finally calmed down, Joe started speaking in a low voice: "Anyway, does your uncle know about juvie?"

The other nodded, taking a bite off the onigiri. "That's why my mother sent me here, after all." He replied after chewing and swallowing the mouthful.

"To keep you out of trouble?"

"Pretty much. As you can guess my relationship with my parents was beyond fucked after that, and trying to enter any university with a record was impossible." Muramatsu explained after another bite. "So they sent me here in the country, to work with my uncle. Far away from any possible temptation to try and start fights with kids my age, they also said."

"And did that last part work?" Joe asked, unwrapping an onigiri for himself.

"Well, the average age around here is fifty, so in a way yes." He replied before letting out a laugh. "All jokes aside, yes. I like this place and the people here, and I don't want to disappoint my uncle, so I'm doing my best. He's been closer to me than my actual dad when I was a kid. When they threw me in the slammer, I was more sorry for him than for my mother." He made a pause, then added under his breath: "Seriously, screw her and her husband."

Joe swallowed a mouthful, then said: "Alright, let's change argument then... how long has your uncle been living here? He's from Tokyo too, isn't he?"

"Yes, exactly, he moved here about five years before I was arrested. He had just divorced his wife. They'd been together since they were in high school, so he didn't take it well, and had a serious breakdown. He decided to take a trip through the Tokai route to get his mind off it. During it he stopped by this village and liked the place, so he took over this convenience store and decided to settle here."

"I see. Talking about him..." Joe said, pointing to their side, in the direction of the store's main entrance. Muramatsu turned his head where the other was indicating, and saw his uncle walking towards them holding a plastic tray.

"Here you are." The man said when he reached them, passing him the tray carrying a dish of steaming rice and curry and a spoon. "Having a nice talk?"

Muramatsu nodded. "I was just telling him of how you bought this place."

"Yes, I heard that." He replied. "The old owner was about to retire anyway, so I picked up the franchise contract and started working here in less than a month. I couldn't have been luckier."

"Really..." Joe answered, looking impressed. "I hope that working and living here did help you get your mind off your problems."

"Yeah. I really needed to change environment." The older man said. "The only annoyance are the insects during summer, but that's a minor hassle compared to the positives."

"I can imagine." Joe replied.

"Anyway, while we're at it..." The older man said, taking something out of his pocket and putting it on the plastic bag that was sitting on the bench. Only when he moved his hand away, Joe recognized that it was the money he had left on the counter.

"W-Wait, there's no need--" Joe tried to protest.

"Don't even mention that, you're my guest today. I'm just happy to see him having some fun and laughing." The other replied.

"Well, in that case, thanks." Joe said before taking another bite.

"Anyway, is there anything else I can take you? Another onigiri, an ice cream?"

"No, thanks." He shook his head, smiling. "I still have a couple of onigiri to finish. But I'll get something else later for the rest of my trip, before leaving."

The older man crossed his arms on his chest and smiled. "Alright then. Well, I'll go now, some clients are coming." He said, pointing at a car driving towards the store with a movement of his head. "Enjoy yourselves, but don't be late."

"Owhaight!" Muramatsu replied, his mouth full.

The man then turned around and walked to the entrance of the convenience store. Joe didn't take his eyes off him as he walked inside. "You and your uncle look after the shop on your own?" He then asked.

"There are a couple of guys that help at evening and night, and during the summer and winter holidays he hires some more people." Muramatsu explained. "That's when the tourists come."

The other nodded, drinking some tea. He stood in silence, waiting for the other to finish another mouthful, and enjoyed the noise of the cicadas singing. "Such a peaceful place, really. Reminds me of a comic I loved when I was a kid."

"Yeah. A bit boring at times, to be fair, but it grew on me. There are some hot springs in the village down the hill, the baths there are pretty cheap."

"Really? Thanks for telling me, I'll definitely visit it, I haven't been to the public baths in years!" Joe said, his eyes almost shining as he spoke.

"You're welcome. We have some promotional leaflets with maps in the shop, feel free to pick up a couple later, there's a discount coupon in them." Muramatsu replied before stopping to drink something.

"I will, thank you." He replied. "Do you also have something about hotels or inns in this area?"

"Of course. But if you want to stay here for a few days, you can crash at my place. It's not too big, or fancy, but for you it's free."

"Thanks for the offer, but it's not just me. It's for someone I want to bring here. Well, maybe a couple people, or three..."

"And who are they, if I can ask?"

Joe smiled. "People who desperately need a quiet place like this right now, one of them in particular. Can't really say much about why, sorry."

"Oh, okay, fair enough." Muramatsu replied. 

"By the way, do the baths around here let foreigners in, or..."

"Yeah, don't worry. There are a few European and American tourists in summer, and they're not assholes here. They've got a strict policy about tattoos, though."

"Oh, alright. Not a problem then."

After some silence, to see if Joe had anything else to ask, Muramatsu inquired: "Is it about your father? Did you find him?"

Joe shook his head. "Nope, that's not about him. I want to bring here some friends that I made while I was away."

"I see..." The other mumbled. "By the way, you said you haven't gone to the public baths in years... where exactly have you been until now?"

"Like I said, in a lot of places. Remember those guys in black we saw when we tried to escape? I had to get them off my back, and they were a pain to get rid of."

"The guys in black?" He repeated. "Did... did they kidnap you?"

Joe nodded. "But I made them regret it, don't worry." He then said, cracking his knuckles while smiling.

Muramatsu stared at him, incredulous. He scooted closer and, after looking around himself a couple of times, said in a low voice: "If you need a hand dealing with them, I still have a few friends back in Tokyo that can--"

"No, don't worry." Joe interrupted the other, speaking in a normal level of voice. "They're no longer anything to worry about."

The other raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

Joe nodded again. "Besides, you said you're trying to keep away from that kind of stuff for your uncle's sake, right? And I don't want you to risk disappointing him just for me." He explained, cracking a smile as he spoke the last sentence.

"What are you talking about? 'Just' for you? If there's anything I can do to help--"

"Thank you, really." Joe interrupted him again. "But like I said, those guys aren't a problem anymore. But if they should be again, I'll remember your offer."

Muramatsu tried to say something, but decided against. Instead he slightly changed argument, as that exchange had reminded him about something else. "Alright... anyway, you said you made some foreign friends... do you know a French guy called Arnoul?"

"Yes, I've met him. He told me he had visited you in jail and talked to you."

"Do you know if he managed to find his sister?"

He nodded again. "Yes, and she's doing fine. Well, mostly..."

"You've met her?"

"Yep. A really nice girl." Joe replied, taking a bite from an onigiri. "Did you hear from Arnoul lately?"

"Nope, but he sent me letters while I was in jail. His Japanese was pretty good, I was surprised. But since I moved here I didn't get a single letter." Muramatsu mumbled, leaning against the back of the bench.

"He's been busy lately, but he got your reply with your new home and mail addresses. Can't tell you when he'll be able to write you again, though." The other calmly explained.

Muramatsu stood silent in confusion for a few moments. "And how do you..."

"I told you, I met him. That's how I learned where to find you, and why I came here." Joe replied, matter of fact. "Hope that didn't sound or feel creepy, and sorry if it did..."

"Huh... n-no, don't worry. I'm happy to see you." The other answered. "I still remember that time I met him in person, his tone completely changed when he talked about his sister. So I'm happy to hear that he found her and that she's fine. What's her name again?"

"Françoise."

"Oh, yeah." He replied. He then waited some time for Joe to say something. Seeing there was no reaction from the other, he decided to focus back on finishing his dish of curry. He scooped up the remaining rice with the spoon and ate it.

While chewing, Muramatsu gave Joe another glance, his eyes closed and his head facing up, clearly enjoying the sun on his face. He looked serene, an expression he would have never imagined seeing on him.

After finishing his meal, Muramatsu looked in front of himself, noticing a car driving in the direction of the parking lot. "Well, I guess I've gotta go, it's almost time clients start to swarm in."

Joe turned his head with a quick movement, as if until that moment he had been deep in his thoughts and he had been snapped out of them. "Huh... oh, okay." He replied, stretching his arms and then standing up. "Sorry for not having been too talkative."

"It's alright. You're coming back after all, aren't you? Write me something before coming back, I'll make some plans so we can have some free time. There's a nice bar about forty minutes from here, the booze and the food are good."

"Really? In that case, happily. But I don't know if it will be anytime soon..."

"Don't worry about that." Muramatsu smiled widely. "I look forward meeting with your friends too. If you and they don't mind, of course."

"I hope, we'll see." Joe replied.

Muramatsu tended out his arm, and patted Joe on his shoulder. "I'm so happy to have seen you again, after so long. I'm glad everything turned out well for you."

"It's the same for me. Glad to know you're doing well." Joe said, returning the gesture. "I wish you the best, too."

When the other moved his hand away, Joe turned to the bench and picked up the money and plastic bag. Muramatsu waited for the other, then walked back into the store along with him. He gave another more relaxed and casual look at his friend, in his plain white shirt and jeans attire, and smiled to himself; he would have never imagined to see Joe, or even to spend time with him, like this.


	4. Chapter 4

The last few steps until he reached the café felt like walking in a pool of mud, so tired he was. When he reached the first of the tables lined outside of it, Gilmore let go of the baby carriage he was pushing and slumped down on one of the chairs, without even caring for the fact that there still were dirty cups and dishes sitting in front of him.

"Finally!" He mumbled to himself, but loud enough to attract the attention of a couple of other customers and passersby.

The reply resounded in his head: _'Are you tired?'_

"What does it look like to you?" Gilmore replied while sitting up straight.

_'You could have told me._

"You couldn't find that out by yourself?" He replied, reaching out to pull the carriage closer to him, then picking Ivan out of it.

_'You always get angry when I read your mind without your permission.'_

Gilmore took Ivan in his arms and started to slowly rock him. "You really couldn't tell just by looking at my face, little genius?" He asked, sarcastically. "Anyway, how are you now? Did you enjoy your little tour of Kitay-gorod?"

 _'Yes, definitely.'_ Ivan replied, relaxing into the other's arms.

"Glad you did, because we're calling it a day for today. My legs are hurting like hell..."

_'Alright. For the rest of the day we'll go wherever you prefer.'_

"I just want to go back to the hotel and relax, right after I have a something to drink and a snack." He replied.

_'Fair enough. Just be careful not to speak out loud, a waitress is coming.'_

After receiving that warning Gilmore raised his head, and saw a young woman with a tray in her hands approaching them, wearing a simple but elegant looking uniform made of a white shirt and black trousers under a clean dark apron with the name of the bar printed on it.

 _'What do you want? Tell me, I'll translate it for you.'_ Ivan said.

 _'No. I'll just speak English, I'm sure she'll understand.'_ Gilmore answered in his mind. _'Do you want anything?'_

 _'I'm fine.'_ He replied.

The waitress reached the table, and started cleaning with up while giving him a wide smile. "What can I bring you?" She then asked in English.

"A black tea and some biscuits, thank you." Gilmore said.

"Do you want to try the whole traditional Russian tea set?"

"No thanks, just a cup."

"Sure." She answered. She turned her eyes on Ivan, and asked: "Your grandson, or granddaughter?"

"He's a boy. And no, he's the son of a colleague. Someone who used to work with me." Gilmore explained. "I just take care of him."

"I understand." She answered, reaching out with one hand to play with Ivan by gently touching the tip of his nose and sticking out her tongue. The child flailed his arms around and let out a giggle, playing along. She then picked up the tray and headed back inside the café.

Gilmore looked at Ivan and, when he was sure he had his attention, thought: _'See? There was no problem at all.'_

 _'The son of a colleague at work?'_ Ivan replied.

_'Well, technically speaking it's the truth--'_

_'That's not what I meant, and you know it.'_ The child cut him short. _'You really can't stand me to the point you need to put distances between me and you even when you're doing small talk with a complete stranger?'_

_'We look too different, she wouldn't have believed--'_

_'She couldn't even tell if I'm a boy or a girl, you really think she would have been enough of a physiognomist to notice that we're not actually related?'_ He intervened again.

Gilmore looked at him in silence, then gave a small shrug and looked away, looking at the people walking down the street around them to empty his mind. It took a small while before he could notice Ivan's reply: _'So that's how it's going to be...'_

After saying those words the child stayed completely silent, leaving Gilmore slightly nervous. He did his best trying to keep his mind empty, and avoid thinking anything. He tried to exchange a look with Ivan but averted his sight immediately after, in part intimidated and in part to avoid having to start a conversation with him.

He was finally taken out of that situation a couple of minutes later, when the waitress came back bringing him his tea, a cup of sugar cubes and a couple dishes of sweets. She put them on the table, played around with Ivan another bit, and left. Gilmore wished it had lasted more than those few seconds, then quickly erased that thought from his mind. He decided to concentrate on his tea for the moment, that would have helped him calm down.

As he took a hold of his glass, Ivan's voice echoed in his head: _'At least put me back in my carriage.'_

Without saying a thing, almost carelessly, the older man did so. With time he had learned how to keep his mind free when he was around Ivan, at least when he wasn't feeling too anxious.

On his part, Ivan never seemed to find that worth noticing, or possibly just didn't care, and never remarked about it, which Gilmore found fine. He forced himself to ignore the kid once more and picked up his glass by the metal holder taking a small, careful sip of the still hot tea, when the familiar small voice resounded in his head again.

_'You're drinking it bitter?'_

That remark baffled Gilmore, for how disconnected from everything else it was, and in response all he could do was silently stare at the child, his mouth agape.

 _'Russian tea should be drank with sugar, or at least while eating some sweets.'_ Ivan added.

With almost mechanical movements, Gilmore put his glass back down on the table, reached out and took Ivan out of the carriage, holding him so that he was staring right into the child's face.

_'There's this common manner of drinking by holding a sugar cube between your teeth, then drinking the tea through it. I wouldn't suggest it, though.'_

_'What the hell are you going on about?'_ Gilmore's thoughts finally erupted, as he gave Ivan an angry glare.

 _'Just explaining you how to properly drink tea the Russian way.'_ The child calmly explained, his expression unchanged. _'You came here just to do that, didn't you?'_

Gilmore gave a deep frown, and snapped: _'I just want to drink some tea in peace!'_ He almost said that out loud, but thankfully his voice wasn't coming out of his mouth, mercifully sparing him the bigger humiliation next to the embarrassment he had just realized that, by holding a small child with that expression on his face, he had attracted the sights of a lot of the passersby.

So he put Ivan back in the carriage, and drew a long breath. When he felt calm, he replied: _'Besides, what do you know about how to drink tea properly? Aren't you too small to have even tried it?'_

_'I know a lot of things, that's all.'_

"Whatever..." Gilmore mumbled. He put a sugar cube in the tea and stirred it with quick, brusque gestures, making the spoon clink against the glass several times, then picked the glass up and brought it to his mouth.

 _'Be careful, you'll burn your tongue or the roof of your mouth if you drink hot tea like that.'_ Ivan chimed in once more, calmly.

"I know, I know..." The other replied, annoyed, though less because of the fact that the kid wouldn't shut up and more because he did have a point. He blew on the tea and slowly sipped some: a bit stiff for his tastes, but not bad.

A few minutes carrying out that small ceremony seemed to have done the trick, at least in part, and before he knew he had finished all the sweets while having drank only half of the tea in his glass. When he realized it, he couldn't help a smile to himself. He was calm now, he thought as he looked at Ivan. "Why have you gotten so silent all of a sudden? Aren't you going to scold me for eating too fast?" He commented sarcastically, unable to help himself.

Ivan didn't give him a reply, and Gilmore just let out a chuckle and sipped some more tea.

 _'You weren't my second choice, just so you know.'_ The words resounded in Gilmore's head as he put down the glass on the table.

"Huh?" The man mumbled, confused, turning his head to the carriage.

_'That's one of the reasons why you're annoyed with me, aren't you?'_

"What are you--"

_'I had thought of asking you to accompany me here all along. But then I saw how Françoise was doing, and decided to invite her too. When she refused, I had already offered you.'_

"Oh, really?" Gilmore murmured.

_'Yes, I promise. Feel free not to believe me.'_

"Why are you telling me all this now?"

 _'I just felt like it. Unlike me, you can't just read my mind and find out.'_ Ivan replied, and Gilmore let out a small laugh.

"You want to be fair with _me_?"

_'You get on my nerves at times, but I don't hate you.'_

Gilmore sighed. "You wouldn't have invited me otherwise, would you? And why are you bringing this up now, of all times?"

_'Because now you look calm, for a change. Besides, it's only fair by now. I know a lot about you, but not the other way around. And unlike me, you can't just find out by reading my thoughts.'_

The older man blanked his mind once again, and drank more tea. "Why the hell did you want to bring her here, of all places?" He asked after making sure he had regained his composure.

 _'The Bolshoi Theater.'_ Ivan calmly answered. _'I've heard they're very famous for their ballet exhibitions, and that they're very good at it.'_

Gilmore gave Ivan a weirded out look. Then, almost out of the blue, he started laughing loudly.

 _'Hey, you scared me!'_ Ivan complained when Gilmore had stopped. _'And people are looking at you!'_

 _'Let them, it's okay.'_ He thought, catching his breath. _'It's just too fun to hear.'_

_'Does that mean I was wrong about the theater, then? My bad, I'll find someplace else.'_

_'It's not about that.'_ Gilmore answered. _'They're actually very good at ballet. I personally wouldn't be able to judge, I just know by reputation. Taking 003 there would--'_

 _'Françoise.'_ Ivan interjected in his thoughts.

At that, Gilmore froze, color drained from his face for a moment. "I'm sorry. Force of habit." He mumbled, this time speaking out.

_'I know. It's just irritating to hear.'_

Gilmore nodded, and stood silent and blank minded for another while, before finally replying to Ivan with his thoughts: _'I laughed because I found fun that you'd admit it to me that casually. But you had a good idea, don't worry about it. But to be honest, I don't think 00-- Françoise would have followed you here anyway. She needed to spend some time with her brother.'_

_'I know, I had invited Jean Paul too. But he had work to do, and since he wasn't coming along she wasn't going to leave his side.'_

After picking up the glass and taking a sip, Gilmore nodded. _'You could try to invite her again another time, especially if you tell her straight out why you wanted to take her here to Moscow. I'm sure she would love to see some first class ballet.'_

Ivan took some moments before replying. _'I wanted to maker her a surprise, and take her mind off things. Seeing her like that, even now that she's safe and with her brother, is hard to take.'_

Gilmore looked at him and gave another nod.

_'I talked about it with Joe and Geronimo, while I was organizing the trip here and wondering who I could have brought along. They told me about the Bolshoi and said she might have liked it, so I thought it would have been nice to ask her.'_

_'And that's the only reason? Sure it wasn't just because you wanted some motherly company?'_ The thought was almost instinctive for Gilmore, who wasn't able to stop himself from materializing it into his mind. When he realized he had thought that he panicked, and braced himself for Ivan's reaction.

 _'Yes, you're right.'_ The child calmly said, after some seconds of nerve-wrecking silence. _'Admittedly, that was only one of the reasons.'_

Some seconds later, seeing that it was the whole reaction from the other, Gilmore relaxed and looked at him.

 _'I'm not angry, don't worry.'_ The child replied. _'Just a bit for a moment, but then I realized why you'd think that. Besides, it's pretty obvious.'_

Gilmore picked Ivan up and took him in his arms, giving him a careful look.

_'And aside from that, I thought that having Françoise with me would have meant she wouldn't have pitied me, having her mind busy with her own troubles and all that. But now that I think about it better I realize it was selfish, and I'm kind of happy she didn't come with me.'_

"You, not thinking things through? That's weird."

_'I get emotional too, like everyone else.'_

"Of course." Gilmore replied, giving him a sad smile. He had tried his best not to think about the obvious reason why Ivan had decided to go to Moscow, and up to that moment he had succeeded. The fact he had managed to let it slip like that, even for just a moment, made him feel angry and annoyed at himself.

 _'It's not only because of mom.'_ Ivan intervened, interrupting Gilmore's train of thoughts.

The older man looked down, not taken by surprise in the slightest by those words.

_'Thanks for not bringing it up until now, by the way. But no, it's not just about her. Once you talked about how Black Ghost had this relocation policy for the relatives of people working for them, so I assume that's what must have happened to her as well.'_

"Hm..."

_'If they have made her move somewhere else in Russia, it's going to be difficult to find her without a lead. And if it was another country, that's even worse. Until we find their archives, we wouldn't know where to even start. Not even I can do anything about it without at least a hint.'_

"Then why did you decide to come here in the first place?"

_'I just wanted to see Moscow.'_

"Really?"

 _'The only things I can remember are the few glimpses I could catch through the windows of the car and the plane, when they took me to Black Ghost. I wanted to wander around and have a better look at it.'_ Ivan explained. _'When I heard the others talk about their cities and countries, and how they hoped to come back to them one day, I felt left out since I had nothing to say myself.'_

"I see..." Gilmore mumbled under his breath. "And now that you're seeing it, how are you finding Moscow?"

_'Unfamiliar, nothing really reminds me of anything, not even the monuments. And I like it because of that.'_

The older man nodded, resting against the back of the chair. After Ivan rested himself against his chest, Gilmore picked the glass of tea up with his free hand. "That explains it. It confused me, since I just can't imagine you as the kind of person who would go around a city looking at monuments and museums."

_'And why?'_

"You just never struck me as the type, that's all."

_'There's a lot you still don't know about me.'_

"There's very little I know about you, actually." He replied.

_'Have you ever been here in Moscow?'_

"You can find out yourself, you know."

_'I'd rather ask, if you don't mind.'_

Gilmore let out a chuckle. "Yes, I've been here in Moscow, a few conferences sponsored by Black Ghost. The last time was half a dozen years ago, and the first before you were born, when the country was part of a bigger one called Soviet Union." He said before emptying the glass in a couple of gulps. "But I'll explain you more in detail another time, I don't want to spoil things for you since you're enjoying yourself." He added as he put him back in the carriage.

 _'Okay then.'_ Ivan replied. _'Is there any place you'd like to go and see again?'_

"No, not really. We didn't get to see the city when they brought us here, as you can imagine Black Ghost was keeping a close eye on us." He explained. "But I'd like to go and see the History of Medicine Museum and the Cosmonautics Museum, if they're still there."

_'Cosmonautics Museum?'_

Gilmore smiled. "I had the feeling that would have interested you. Anyway, I'll ask about it at the hotel." He replied, gesturing to call the attention of one of the waitresses.


End file.
